The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1887-10-29
LITTLE JENNIE.
How She Followed Old Brindle
Into the Swamps.


1t was just five o'clock. Far away
over the prairies the great golden sun
was beginning to rise. As he showed
his friendly old face above the trees
that grow on the ridge as far away as
the eye could reach, the mist that hung
over the river skunk away, and trees
and grass glistened with the heavy dew
drops. Here and there fleecy white
clouds were flying swiftly before the
dazzling rays of light, as if afraid of
scorching their wings by futtering too
near the great lamp of day, while the
clear blue sky encircled the earth in a
tender embrace and the rivers and the
plains and the far-away mountains re-
sponded with a radiant smile. As the
sun rose higher, the little mission sta
ton on the bank of the smoothly-fow-
ing river began to awake, From the
low little adobe homes appeared one
by one the tall Indians, with their
straight black hair falling roughly
about their dark faces. The little
children gathered in groups and talked
in low, cultural tones of the coming
day, and the women stood for Il moment
in the doorways and then silently dis
appeared within,
At the mission house there was a stir,
and the tidy Indian girls moved briskly
about preparing the morning meal.
Not far away stood group of children,
and they all looked up and smile
broke over their dusky faces, as a
golden-haired little girl, with bright
blue eyes and soft white skin, tripped
down the steps and joined them. How
strangely she looked, the little pale
face, among those Indian children!
They thought her child of the sun,
crowned with bit of her great father
glory, while she, with all her heart,
wished that she had black hair as they
had, that could be braided in long
straight braids instead of twisting about
ones fingers in such ridiculous way.
She felt no fear of them, as a child I'M
used to their stolid looks and ways
would. They were the only companions
of her own age that she had ever known,
and to her their faces were friendly.
their manners natural. If there was
any one strange and unlike others, it
was she, for was she not the only one
with white skin among them all? OF
course her father and mother were not
so dark as the Indians; but long years
of exposure to the glazing light and
parching winds of the plains had made
them resemble the people among whom
they had lived and toiled, much more
than the little girl who had only had
four years in all her life.
She saw one of the girls from the
house come down the steps carrying q
bucket, and she followed her to where
the old COW, Brindle, stood, patiently
waiting to be MIXED. She never tired
of standing by old Brindle, who chewed
her cud in quiet contentment. while q
stream of fragrant milk poured steadily
into the bucket.
Sarah, where does the COW get the
milk?" she asked.
Sarah smiled as she replied:
''She must get it down by the river.
Jennie, where she stays all day, for
she always brings it home with her,"
81 never saw any down there, did
you, Sarah" asked Jennie in wonder
30, no, Jennie; but cows see things
we don't, l guess" And Sarah s
bright eyes twinkled mischievously.
'tBut.co now, it's time for break
FAST
She rose from her stool and lifted
the bucket of foaming milk, while
Brindle, with an air of satisfaction,
commenced to nibble the short grass
about her.
Jennie came out after breakfast Just
as the COW was walking slowly of to-
ward the river.
Il wonder if she does get it down
there" she said to herself, as she stood
thoughtfuily watching her move away
among the trees. I'm going to see. ="
And she trotted along as fast as she
could go to catch up with the COW.
1t was busy time at the house, and
no one noticed the little figure under
the big pink sunbonnet, in whose cav
ernous depths might be seen an eager
little face, if one stopped down and
Hooked closely. No one noticed her as
she marched straight into the woods
and soon disappeared among the dense
underground.
Brindle walked slowly along. pausing
here and there as some particularly
Ifender bit of grass caught her eye. and
.the old cracked bell beat time with the
rhythmic motion of her head. On she
went deeper and deeper into the forest